Don’t Lose Heart
Winter mornings in the Midwest are notably dreary. In our home, the November time change shifts the days so that the sun rises after our alarm clocks ring. The lingering chill makes the task of walking our dog, Khana, feel a little more like a chore than an opportunity to start the day with exercise. As difficult as it is to pull back the warm covers and start the day, I’ve discovered that the minutes spent walking in our neighborhood just as the sun appears are some of my favorites.
Bundled from head to toe, I open the door and step out onto the porch. The cool air shakes away any lingering tiredness. As we approach the sidewalk Khana looks at me for direction. Whether I choose to go left or right, within a few minutes we’re facing east as we turn the corner. The silence around us seems to enhance the sunrise. It never fails to lift my spirits.
As I admire the sky, feeling increasingly energized, Khana falls into the rhythm of her favorite task, squirrel hunting. Of course, our sweet pup has never actually caught a squirrel, yet hope springs eternal. A few weeks ago, I noticed that even though Khana continued diligently looking in every bush and tree for signs of a bushy tail close enough to snatch, the tugs on the leash caused by a hopeful sprint toward a squirrel were missing. With hibernation in full swing, our furry pests were sleeping. Regardless, Khana’s hope remains unwavering.
Occasionally, a slight whine of disappointment escapes as the absence of squirrels drags on for blocks. Yet even when I gently whisper, “It’s okay to stop looking for now,” she never stops. Despite the dark, cold mornings, our puppy continues her daily hopeful search undeterred.
It may seem silly, but her diligence reminds me of what it looks like not to lose heart, even in the dark. As she approaches every walk with the same eager walk, I often recall 2 Corinthians 4:13-18 which says,
Since we have the same spirit of faith according to what has been written, “I believed, and so I spoke,” we also believe, and so we also speak, knowing that he who raised the Lord Jesus will raise us also with Jesus and bring us with you into his presence. For it is all for your sake, so that as grace extends to more and more people it may increase thanksgiving, to the glory of God.
So we do not lose heart. Though our outer self is wasting away, our inner self is being renewed day by day. For this light momentary affliction is preparing for us an eternal weight of glory beyond all comparison, as we look not to the things that are seen but to the things that are unseen. For the things that are seen are transient, but the things that are unseen are eternal. (ESV)
What allows Paul, a man living under an oppressive Roman regime to encourage his fellow Christ followers not to lose heart? What enables him to retain a faith in an unknown future?
The Eerdmans Companion Bible says, “Paul’s confidence in the resurrection provides the basis for his discounting temporary earthly afflictions in expectation of an incomparably glorious eternity.”[1]
I don’t know about you, but in the past few years I’ve experienced a few moments of wavering hope. I’ve had days where I just couldn’t shake the darkness and doubt from rising. These moments have captivated too much of my day, and even more of my heart.
As I’ve reflected on what makes a posture of hope more challenging to retain a pattern has emerged. I’ve realized that it’s much more difficult to cling to moments of hope when the voices surrounding me preach gloom and doom. And sadly, the number of voices I’ve encountered continues to increase. But it doesn’t have to be this way.
As the Prophet Isaiah was tasked with warning the Israelites their wandering hearts would eventually send them into exile. Yet even within the starkest warning, God sent a message of hope.
Isaiah 43:1-2 says,
But now thus says the Lord, he who created you, O Jacob, he who formed you, O Israel:
“Fear not, for I have redeemed you; I have called you by name, you are mine. When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and through the rivers, they shall not overwhelm you; when you walk through fire you shall not be burned, and the flame shall not consume you” (ESV).
As much as we’d like to believe the words of others don’t sway our beliefs, we are created for community. Proverbs 27:17 says, “Iron sharpens iron, and one man sharpens another” (ESV). Words matter, and that includes the words you dwell on.
You know what’s amazing? Even on the coldest morning walks, eventually, Khana spots a squirrel and sets off full of hope that this will be the day she finally catches a fuzzy gray tail. It’s equally funny and sad when she finally accepts yet another squirrel has alluded her. Regardless, whenever the next walk begins her posture remains unwavering. She clings to hope that this time she will succeed.
Hope may be difficult to sustain in dark days, but I’ve learned that it’s easier to renew my hope when those around me remind me to keep moving forward. Choosing more discerning voices has reminded me that even when I can’t see or feel God’s presence, he is still with me. And that’s a hopeful reminder to cling to. As spring approaches and the morning light invites us outside more frequently, let’s cling to hope like Khana and even more so like Paul and Isaiah.
[1] Gordon D. Fee and Robert L. Hubbard Jr., eds., The Eerdmans Companion to the Bible (Grand Rapids, MI; Cambridge, U.K.: William B. Eerdmans Publishing Company, 2011), 662.
Beth M. Walker is an author, speaker, and experienced digital marketer. Married to a football coach and raising two sons, she has waded through the challenges of balancing home life with the work she loves. One of Beth’s gifts is helping others discern their gifts and take them to the next level. With many years of expertise in writing and digital marketing, she has helped countless people identify their unique calling, thrive in their life purpose, and pursue their courageous next step vocationally. She blogs at BethMWalker.com.
Photograph © Chris Liu, used with permission
